What True Love Is, Is Sacrifice
by miladylen
Summary: Trying to start a collection of OQ poems.
1. Counting Scars

These two first chapters have already been posted on tumblr for a while, but I wanted to have them on here as well. Idk if they can be considered poetry, but here it is nonetheless.

1\. Poem from Regina to Robin following his death

* * *

Ten. The number of days since you've been gone.

.

Nine. The number of nights I've cried myself to sleep missing you.

.

Eight. The number of times I've called your phone knowing you won't answer.

.

Seven. The number of months before we kissed for the first time.

The number of days before we kissed for the first time(again).

.

Six. The number of times you saved my life.

The number of times I should have stopped you.

(Maybe you'd still be here.)

.

Five. The number of times you told me you loved me.

The number of times I wanted to say it back.

.

Four. The number of times we've said goodbye.

Never thinking we'd get another chance.

.

Three. The number of times you came back to me.

Until I started hoping you always would.

.

Two. The number of people you should have given your life for.

(I wasn't one of them. Darling, don't you know I wasn't one of them?)

.

One. The only person I ever trusted with my heart.

You. Only you.

.

.

.

(Why wasn't my heart enough to save you?)


	2. With Me, Always

2\. Poem from Regina to Robin following his death as she begins to heal.

Inspired by Iain S. Thomas' poem _The Here_ from _I Wrote This For You_.

* * *

You're gone.

You're gone, but you're still here.

You're still here. You're everywhere.

You are the sound of crunched autumn leaves. You are muddy boots, grass-stained trousers, and leather gloves. You are the warmth of a campfire. And the sweetness of a smore burning on my tongue.

You are the carving of our names I found one day on our log.

You are the rhythm of a waltz I learn on the piano. You are the taste of whiskey as it pours down my throat. You are the burgundy scarf I keep in my drawer.

You are secret glances and shy smiles across council-room tables. You are moonlit walks on castle grounds. And whispered goodnights at the door. You are little dimpled knights falling asleep on my chest after bedtime stories.

You are lazy mornings and breakfasts in bed. You are late nights, kids sleeping, teacups in the sink, and a cozy blanket.

And lovebites not yet faded.

You are tales of bravery and heroic rescues, fights for justice, bows that never miss their marks, and outlaws with hearts of gold.

You are every unsaid 'I love you' because words have little meaning and your eyes say what your lips won't. You are distances that make the heart grow fonder.

You are daring first kisses. You are risks taken.

You are pink beanies. And gray flecks in your daughter's eyes.

You are a torn and tapped-back-together storybook page. You are possibilities lost and found again.

You are second chances.

So I smile. Because you are in that too.


	3. Here and Hereafter

Not technically a poem I know. Whatever.

3\. Letter from Robin to Regina following his 'death'

* * *

My dearest Regina,

The air here is quiet; there is no whispering breeze, nor warm or cold embrace. The only proof I hold as to air's existence is my own. I require no food or drink. I haven't glanced a soul.

I am alone. Trapped in a world of my own making. A world in which I am surrounded by everything I love. I catch glimpses of what I lost. I see a tree in the distance but, as I approach, it disappears. I smell smoke, but there is no fire to beek before. I hear laughter, my son's I think, though he sounds older (I guess that's how I know time passes and I stay still). But as I run to him, his face vanishes from my memory. Sometimes I feel your fingers on my cheek, your lips on my neck. If I close my eyes long enough I can almost believe it. Believe there will come a day when I shall see you again.

I do. I have faith that there must be a way back to you. That despite not knowing where I am, you will destroy any obstacle that stands between us. We've survived too much for me to give up now.

I know this won't reach you, but telling you all of this makes the faint presence of you even stronger. I pray your ghost to keep on haunting me. Maybe if I believe enough for the both of us, you will hear my cry wherever you are. I think Henry would say that good always defeats evil, and you must know we shall conquer this too.

Don't give up.

Do not dare think that what happened to me is a result of your past mistakes. You deserve a second chance. You deserve happiness. And if I am fortunate enough to be a part of it, then I will do my utmost to give that to you. I will fight. And I shall return to you, my love.

Until then, I will meet you in my dreams. Maybe when we dream we travel to another realm much like the one I seem to be in now. The similarities frighten me. In dreams, everything beautiful is so close, but just out of reach. Am I dreaming? Perchance I am. And perchance all I need to wake up is what I know I found with you.

Ever yours,

Robin


	4. You Didn't Just Ruin Your Happiness

4\. Poem from Robin to Regina as she's about to step into the tavern and meet the man with the lion tattoo

* * *

Just one step

into the unknown,

into our future;

it seems so simple if you're sure.

.

Won't you take a chance?

I'd risk it all,

I'd surrender myself;

this love can't survive by itself.

.

From rumpled sheets

I never knew I was looking,

seeking what life has so far denied.

With you, maybe, I need no longer try.

.

Leave the past behind

for anger has no place

or reason to be

once our souls finally meet.


	5. A Change of Heart

5\. Poem from The Evil Queen to Robin of Locksley as they begin their new life in the Enchanted Forest

* * *

My heart is new,

freshly minted and bare;

I know not yet how or if it cares.

.

I know not the black from red;

does it promise kindness or bloodshed?

.

I know not if it bruises,

if the wound once open never closes.

.

I know not what it can take,

but I know how fast it beats

when in your arms I awake.

.

I feel it grow with each touch;

to recognize you,

darling, it wouldn't need much.

.

It answers each revered moan;

it's enough to hope

I won't be nothing, I won't be alone.

.

My heart is new

and only you can make it burn.

My heart is yours to teach,

my heart is yours to learn.


End file.
